


Transference

by SyverneSien



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Antagonist Mumbo, Base Swap Role Swap AU, Derealization, Gen, Magic, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Personality Swap, Redstone (Minecraft), Sleep Deprivation, Temporary Character Death, i just sort of tagged everyone that shows up bc i didnt want to forget anyone, if theyre in the tags they Will be here i promise, in case that's not your cup of tea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29863467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyverneSien/pseuds/SyverneSien
Summary: The Hermitcraft Big Base Swap takes all the members of the Hermitcraft server by surprise, thrusting them into new environments and handing them new challenges to overcome. However, nobody could have predicted the strange effect it has on those who have change bases, especially after the deed to Mumbo's base is unfortunately eaten by Jellie. Cub has nightmares about losing his arm and eye. Tango quickly becomes the server's best fighter. Grian starts working with redstone. Doc and Mumbo hear voices and feel the draw of vex magic. And after Xisuma realizes what's happening, it becomes a race against the clock to return all of the server members to normal before something goes very, very wrong.
Relationships: Cubfan135 & Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar, John Booko & Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar, No Romantic Relationship(s), Oliver Brotherhood & Steffen Mössner, impulseSV & Thomas | TangoTek
Comments: 40
Kudos: 118





	1. The HCBBS

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Just a few notes before we jump right into this story :D  
> 1\. I am still pretty new to Hermitcraft, so I apologize in advance for any mischaracterization.  
> 2\. I have tried to give a part to as many of the Hermits as I can, but it's impossible to include every single one and still tell the story I want to tell without it getting convoluted, so I apologize if your fav doesn't get as much love as they should.  
> 3\. Be sure to pay attention to the notes and tags! On the whole, this fic contains minor derealization, memory loss/alteration, nightmares, and sleep deprivation. If there's anything I forgot to include in this note, it _will_ be in the tags, so if you're worried, check the tags before reading each update as well as the chapter notes, where I will put individual warnings for chapters. I'm not planning to include anything heavy in the story, but I don't want anybody to be accidentally upset by any of the themes.  
> 4\. The original concept for this AU was created by ghastly-ghostie on Tumblr! This is my own interpretation of the idea :D  
> Enjoy!

They all waited with bated breath. The countdown on the side of the massive, unusual contraption had almost reached zero and the conversations around had petered off into uncomfortable silence as the Hermits stared, trying to glean any last-minute information from the machine. Grian dug his fingers into his arm and tried to keep from fidgeting. He wished that the thing would just finish. He was itching to know what it was, and he knew all the other Hermits were too.

Someone poked Grian’s arm and a slice of cake was thrust into his face. “Cake?” prompted Scar, a cheerful smile stretched from ear to ear across his face. “Courtesy of the government!” When Grian hesitated, Scar continued, saying, “Come on, Grian, you can’t say no to free cake.”

Grian looked around at the rag-tag group of Hermits perched on top of the building. Scar, Keralis, Doc, and Tango. The five of them hadn’t participated in any of the theorizing that had occurred since the alien spire clock had manifested, one day, in the shopping district, and so here they were, all waiting together to see what this thing was. The rest were all holding cake--well, except for Doc, who was holding an armful of buttons and grinning like Grian had never seen him grin before.

“I suppose.” He was too nervous to eat, but Scar was right--he couldn’t say no to free cake. Grian took the small plate from Scar’s hands and looked back towards the countdown, which was starting to smoke at an alarming rate. “Guys-”

_Ka-BOOM!_ The top of the countdown exploded into a shower of colourful fireworks, spewing light and smoke everywhere. Grian covered his eyes with one hand and dropped the cake to the ground, forgotten.

“Come on!” Scar shouted, and Grian heard a whooshing sound as Scar deployed his elytra and leapt from the roof. “The bottom’s open!” And then a few moments later, there came the loud addition of, “It’s like a pinata, there’s probably free stuff!”

Grian peered through the smoke to confirm that a massive hole had been created where the bottom of the countdown used to be, before jumping off of the building after Scar. He swooped down using his elytra, doing a quick circle around what was left of the spire before he dove into the crater and the room that had been exposed by the explosion. It was a pristine box of white and grey, but Grian didn’t have long to admire it, because he was thrown forward by the force of another explosion and his communicator pinged with two new messages.

**ZombieCleo went off with a bang.**

**VintageBeef went off with a bang.**

“Scar!” Grian rounded on the shocked man who was clutching a firework-armed crossbow in his hands. “You’re the _mayor!”_ Tango was laughing beside him, and Grian had to admit that it _was_ pretty funny, though unfortunate for Cleo and Beef, who would have to come all the way back to retrieve their items.

Scar put the crossbow away and held his arms up in a gesture of surrender. “I’m sorry!” he exclaimed in an almost distressed tone. “My hands were shaking; I pulled the trigger by accident…” He looked down at the items scattered across the ground and let out a small wheeze of a laugh. “Does anybody have a chest?”

Leaving Scar to deal with the mess, Grian turned around to face one of the short walls, on which a handful of signs were posted. “Hermitcraft Big Base Swap,” Grian read aloud, and the sound of his voice rising above the others caused the room to quiet down a bit. “Thank you for giving us the deeds to your base in the form of a signed paper submitted before the deadline- _oh no.”_ Grian paused, listening to the other Hermits react, before he continued. “Your base has now been transferred to another Hermit indefinitely. You have been assigned a new base by the HCBBS. Go up to your labelled box and see what base you now own.” He peered at the last sign, on which the text was significantly smaller. “Deeds can be transferred between Hermits. Whoever holds the deed owns the base.”

“Oh boy.” Grian’s not sure exactly who said it, but it seemed to sum up the feelings of all the assembled Hermits. A base swap? Grian wasn’t sure how to react other than being relieved that he didn’t have to work on the back of the mansion anymore.

Grian wandered over to the white shulker box with his name tacked above it and pulled it open, curious to see whose base he was inheriting. “Zedaph,” he muttered to himself as he read the paper. “Oh.”

He heard Scar’s voice from behind him and turned. “I don’t know who I got, could somebody translate this? My dyslexia’s on 110% over here.” Scar held up a scrap of paper, identical to the one that Grian was holding.

Grian quickly made his way over. “Yeah, I’ll read it,” he offered, leaning over Scar’s shoulder. “Uh… Mumbo. You’ve got Mumbo’s base.” A signature scrawled in Mumbo’s handwriting, a small paper clutched in Scar’s grasp. _Whoever holds the deed owns the base._ Grian was beginning to realize the gravity of the situation.

“And I’ve got yours!” Mumbo called, bounding over to stand next to Scar. “Does that mean that I’m the mayor?” His tone was joking, but Scar seemed to genuinely consider for a moment.

_“Does_ that mean you’re the mayor?” Scar repeated, and his forehead scrunched into a thoughtful furrow.

“It’s just bases, not jobs,” Grian put in. “Your base doesn’t include the Town Hall or anything.” Then he shrugged. “It wasn’t that specific, so I guess you can interpret it how you want.”

“I don’t want to be mayor,” Mumbo said hurriedly, which made Scar laugh. “You can keep it!”

“I guess that’s settled then,” Scar commented, beaming. “We’re going to be our own neighbours, Mumbo. Isn’t that strange?”

Before Mumbo could answer, Grian heard a commotion outside and looked up to see Iskall glide into the room through the hole in the ceiling. He looked windblown, as if he’d flown there very quickly. He seemed to be chattering to himself, saying what sounded like ‘oh no’ over and over again.

“Aw, Iskall seems upset,” Grian said. “I wonder why that is? I mean, I don’t like losing my base, but nothing’s going to get ruined and it’ll be fun to swap bases for a while.”

“Probably just surprised,” Mumbo replied. The three of them all watched as Iskall went over to his box and fished out his new deed. “I wonder who he-”

“Beef!” Iskall shouted as he turned back to the room, answering Mumbo’s unfinished question. _“Beef?!”_ It seemed more like an exclamation than him trying to get Beef’s attention, because when the man in question started over to him, he set off a rocket and flew back out of the room with his new deed in hand.

“I’ll go after him,” Beef announced to nobody in particular, and with the whoosh of a rocket, he left as well.

Grian, Mumbo, and Scar stood quietly for a few moments, watching the other Hermits figure out who they were switching with. Then Scar broke the silence by saying, “Well, I should probably go pick up some things from the chest monster.”

“Yeah, I have some items to grab as well,” Mumbo said. “Grian-”

“Actually, I want to speak to you for a moment,” Grian interrupted, reaching for the arm of Mumbo’s suit and tugging it. “Outside?” He glanced around at the other Hermits.

Mumbo blinked at him, then nodded. “Sure. Sure, yeah.” He looked at Scar and Scar gave them a quick nod of acknowledgement, then deployed his elytra and shot out of the hole before them. Mumbo looked back at Grian, who gestured for him to go first.

Grian followed Mumbo back into the shopping district, spotting him by the giant chorus plant growing next to the HCBBS. He landed next to Mumbo and was greeted with two raised eyebrows.

“You built that thing,” Grian stated bluntly, pointing past Mumbo at the half-destroyed countdown timer. “It looks exactly like the Button and it’s got all the Pacific colours on it too. Plus, you were the first one to discover it.”

Mumbo looked shocked. “I did not!” he exclaimed. “I’ll admit you’re right about most of that with the colours and the discovering and the Button, but I swear I had nothing to do with it!” Mumbo didn’t even let Grian reply before he hurried on. “Grian, I’m telling the truth--if I did build that thing, I don’t remember doing it.”

_That’s a weird way to put it,_ Grian thought, regarding his friend curiously. Mumbo seemed sincere, and Grian had no reason to press the subject. So he dropped it. “Okay,” Grian said. “Okay, you didn’t build it. Just wanted to… bring it up.”

Mumbo half-smiled. “I’ll see you later, Grian.” And in typical Mumbo fashion, he set off a rocket and shot into the air before he was done speaking. “Have fun in Zedaph’s base!”

Grian waved to the slowly-disappearing form of his friend, then turned around. He wasn’t sure exactly where Zedaph’s base was, so he’d have to find him and ask for an escort. Well. At least that gave him time to gather his things from the mansion.

_This is going to be interesting._

* * *

Iskall swooped around the branches of the Omega Tree of Doom once, regarding it sadly, before diving down the centre. He didn’t stop on any of the top levels--instead, he made his way to the roots and landed by his chests. He couldn’t believe this. His tree… the project he had sworn would be finished after a hundred days… it was being given to another Hermit with only four weeks left to complete it.

He combed some stray hairs out of his face with his fingers and lifted the lid of a nearby chest. Iskall wasn’t sure what he’d be needing, so he just started grabbing a bit of everything… but then he was interrupted as someone landed heavily on the ground behind him.

“This place is even more beautiful on the inside,” said Beef, and when Iskall turned around he could see the other man looking around in awe. “Do you know where your new bases are or do I need to show you?”

Iskall steadied himself against one of the wood-wrought walls. “Bases?” he repeated. “You have more than one?”

_“You_ have more than one,” Beef corrected, and Iskall tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Right. His new bases. The bases that he was leaving his beloved tree for…

“Then, um, no, I don’t know where they are.” Iskall scratched his head sheepishly. “I know where your- _my_ desert base is, though. Could I meet you there after… after I finish grabbing some things?” He didn’t want to leave yet. He couldn’t _bear_ to leave yet.

Beef nodded. “‘Course. I’ve got a few things I want to do, too,” he said. Beef reached out, as if he were going to give Iskall a reassuring pat on the shoulder, but hesitated and pulled his arm back instead. “Meet you there in an hour or so?”

“Yeah.” Iskall dug his fingers into the rough wood of the tree to ground himself. “Sure.” It would be nice to get away from the Omega Tree for a while, wouldn’t it? Just a short break… then he could get the deed back, finish the tree… but he just didn’t know if he had the time. There was so much left to do-

“See you then!” Beef called, before setting off a firework and shooting up into the sky. Iskall watched the trail of sparks and smoke dissipate, then went back to his chests.

Maybe having Beef in the Omega Tree wouldn’t be so bad. There were some things he just didn’t have the time to work on, and maybe Beef could bring his own touch to the interior. But still… he’d spent so long working on it that it almost felt like giving up to abandon it for someone else’s base. _No._ He wasn’t abandoning it. He’d be back. He just needed to convince Beef to swap deeds.

As Iskall flew up through the tree to the branches, he felt anxious. It had happened so fast… and what if he couldn’t convince Beef to switch back? What then? He’d never forgive himself if he didn’t finish the Omega Tree in time. He needed a plan.

Iskall clicked his mechanical eye onto another setting, overlaying a helpful guide to Beef’s desert base over the landscape. He’d been there before, so it was automatically stored for him. His elytra shifted to catch the wind perfectly and he coasted up into the clouds, casting one last glance at the Omega Tree as he glided away.

_I’ll be back soon. I promise._

* * *

Scar wiped beads of sweat from his brow as he finished hammering down the last tent peg. His leather jacket was laying a few paces away, discarded from the heat, and Scar was grateful for the cowboy hat on his head keeping most of the sun off of his neck and face. He let out a sigh and stood up, shaking exhaustion from his limbs as he entered the small green tent.

“I think that’s enough work for now,” Scar commented, his gaze falling on a familiar grey shape sitting on his fold-out cot. “Don’t you agree, Jellie?” He reached out and stroked the top of her head, eliciting a happy mew from the cat. “I’m going to go look around downstairs and see if I can get some inspiration for how to improve Mumbo’s base. Want to come?”

Jellie hesitated for a moment, then hopped onto Scar’s shoulder. Scar laughed and sauntered back out of the tent, picking up his leather jacket and slinging it over his arm as he went. The weight on his shoulder was comforting and brought a grin to Scar’s face as he made his way to the edge.

“Hold on tight!” Scar warned, reaching up to make sure that Jellie didn’t fall from his shoulder. Then he deployed his elytra and hopped from the ledge, gently gliding down to the ground level of Mumbo’s--his, now--base. He then jumped through one of the Nether portals and landed solidly in the centre of what looked to be an intricate sorting system. 

“Woah.” Scar’s eyes lit up as he looked around at the wall-to-wall assortment of chests stocked with items. He started forward and Jellie leapt from his shoulder to the grass, giving him a content mew as they moved in different directions. “This is like… this is like the chest monster’s cooler older brother.” He laughed to himself, flicking his gaze over all the various indicators in item frames. Wood, stone, dye, terracotta, dirt, netherrack, purpur, obsidian, blackstone, iron, gold, sand… Scar couldn’t even begin to count them all. He opened a few at random, picking through the resources that Mumbo had acquired over the season. And, he supposed, now it all belongs to him. Though… there was a wide range of resources, but individually, definitely not enough to complete some of the projects Scar wanted to start with his new base. He’d have to do some resource gathering before he can get to work.

Or… Scar scratched his chin. Mumbo would never know if he pilfered a few things from the chest monster. Heck, _he_ barely noticed when people stole a few stacks here and there behind his back, and it was _his_ chest monster! _Though not anymore._ Scar chuckled to himself. _Mumbo’s problem, now._

It was decided. He’d pop over in the morning, pick up a few things, and zip away without Mumbo noticing a thing. The perfect crime. Scar rubbed his hands together eagerly, excited to start working on improving the other Hermit’s base. Mumbo was a fine builder, but Scar knew there were some things to be done to make the ancient monument look even better.

The erratic heartbeat of the base made Scar’s attention shift. _Did it just change? Is it on some kind of timer?_ Curious, Scar unfurled his elytra and shot up the centre of the base, calling, “Come on, Jellie!” as he went. He wasn’t too worried about her, though--she was magical, after all.

As Scar swooped around the base, he spotted what looked like two countdowns made of redstone lamps on one of the sides. He tucked in his elytra and landed, slightly off-balance, in front of the wall and looked up at it. One of the countdowns was significantly lower than the other, and there was a chest sitting in front, presumably for something to be placed inside. Scar hummed thoughtfully. Maybe he could ask Mumbo about this when he nipped over to his old base.

The heartbeat was bothering him. It was louder up there, beating out at an irregular pace. He wasn’t used to such a strange, arrhythmic, all-consuming sound--it felt as if it were drowning out all the natural sounds of the jungle that Scar had come to love so much. Scar wondered why Mumbo had decided to make the base alive at all--it seemed to him like nothing but an annoyance.

He stood there, looking at the redstone lamps, for a few more moments. Then the sun caught the edge of the base and Scar realized how late it was getting. There was work to be done in the morning--no sense staying up late to stare at some redstone, as interesting as it was. As the sun dipped towards the horizon, Scar flew back around the base to his temporary living quarters to find Jellie waiting for him, as well as… “Right. I should probably organize this stuff,” he said to nobody in particular, looking directly at the small storage area inside his tent. Organization was not one of Scar’s strong suits, but considering it was only a handful of barrels, it couldn’t be _too_ hard to keep them from getting messy. So he discarded his leather jacket again, rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, and started to sort.

Scar was up to his elbow reaching into a barrel stuffed with dirt and podzol when a curious sound made him stop and look around for the source. The source, as it often was, was Jellie, munching away on a familiar piece of paper. “Hey!” Scar tugged his arm out of the soil and reached over to snatch the deed to his new base from Jellie’s mouth. “Don’t eat that! It’s important!” But when he uncrumpled the document, he was dismayed to see that most of it was already gone, presumably eaten by his cat. “Jellie…” Scar pulled on a disappointed look, which he fixed his pet with. “You know I can’t stay mad at you, but I needed this.” He waved the ruined paper around.

He intended to continue speaking, but a sudden rush of vertigo took him by surprise. His head spun and he reached out to catch himself against one of the barrels. The tent shifted in and out of focus and he blinked his eyes to try to clear his vision, but the feeling persisted. Scar heard Jellie mew at him and wanted to reassure her that he was okay, but when he tried to move towards her, he collapsed onto his knees. “I’m good. I’m… good,” Scar breathed out slowly as his head started to return to normal, more trying to convince himself than his cat.

Jellie appeared at his hand and nudged it comfortingly. He smiled softly, using one finger to stroke her cheek, and finally, the world blurred back into how he regularly saw it. “I’m good,” Scar said again. “Just a little dizzy, I promise.”

She licked his finger and watched him with concerned-looking green eyes as he slowly got to his feet. “Don’t you worry about me.” Using one of the tent poles as support, Scar moved over to the fold-down cot hanging from the roof beams. “And don’t worry about the deed, either. I can just… make a new one. It’s not a big deal.” He sat down on the cot and closed his eyes, tipping his head back as he let out a long sigh. “I’m the mayor, I can pardon myself forging a few documents on account of a cat.” Scar laughed quietly. “It’s fine.”

Scar lay down on the cot and Jellie climbed onto his chest. “I was about to say that I think I just need some sleep, but you seem to think the same thing, huh?” He stroked Jellie’s head and reached down to his feet, where a blanket was bundled up. Scar slowly pulled it up to cover both of them and he smiled as Jellie purred against his neck. “G’night, Jellie.”

Jellie just meowed happily in response.

* * *

“One end can go… here,” Mumbo said to himself, marking it down with a block of red concrete. “And then if… ten of those… one, two, three, four-” He pointed at the blocks as he counted them. “All the way down to… here, maybe?” He shot over to the other end (or where he was going to put it) using his elytra and set down another red block to indicate it. Mumbo stepped back, regarding the space he had designated to put a giant storage system in, and hummed to himself. “Perfect.”

He stretched his arms above his head and let out a groan that quickly turned into a sigh. He’d barely done anything, and yet he felt like he’d been working all day, with the commotion of the HCBBS and his excited exploration of ScarX and the magical village. Mumbo popped the top button of his shirt and loosened his tie a bit, grimacing at the sweat pooling around the back of his neck. It was hot, standing out in the sun where the chest monster was and the new storage system was going to go. When working on his old base, with how tall it was, the strong wind was usually enough to keep him cool, and so it had been a while since he had worked down on the ground in the sweltering sun like this.

Mumbo placed down a few more blocks in the middle so that it didn’t look like he’d done nothing, then turned and started to head back towards the chest monster. _I’ll build the storage system tomorrow,_ he thought, quickly coming upon the pile of chests and shulker boxes. With a small sigh, he added silently, _Scar needs- I need one._

The sun was just catching the top of the nearby trees when Mumbo felt a sudden jab of pain in his chest, directly where his heart was. His brow furrowed in confusion and he reached up to prod the sore area, before another jab, worse, hit him, this one travelling through his chest and into his legs. He was shaking and breathing heavily as he staggered to a nearby collection of shulker boxes, not sure where this pain was coming from or what he should do about it.

Mumbo sat down heavily on the shulker boxes, trying to calm himself as the pain started to fade. He gripped his knees with his hands and leaned over, closing his eyes and slowing his breathing in an attempt to settle his racing heart. He was fine. Sometimes things just happened. He could pick up a healing potion to make sure that there was nothing wrong--other than that, he didn’t think he had any reason to worry. Still, part of him wanted to tell someone, but he pushed that feeling away. It wasn’t a big deal, just a little pain. If it came back, then he would consider getting a second opinion. He was _fine._

He brushed a few strands of dark hair from his eyes and tucked them back into place, then he ran his fingers through the top of his hair to comb it all back and yawned. There was nothing wrong with turning in a little bit early, since he had so much to do the next day. _If I can find a bed,_ Mumbo thought wryly. He wouldn’t be surprised if Scar slept in a tree like a cat.

Mumbo stuck his hands in the pockets of his dress pants and absent-mindedly wandered around the chest monster, looking for the book he’d written down his plans in. “Oh, come on, it has to be here somewhere…” he muttered, after being unable to find it in the spot he’d last seen it. Poking through some nearby chests didn’t elicit anything helpful, nor did moving some of the shulker boxes. He no longer questioned why Scar lost everything he touched--just an hour or so around the chest monster and he’d already had a book disappear into its clutches. For what felt like the millionth time that day, Mumbo sighed.

He quickly lit a rocket and shot into the air with his elytra, resigned to simply making another book. He had his plans memorized, anyway. The book was just a precaution to keep everything in order.

Mumbo swooped around the giant drill mechanism and dove towards the magical village that doubled as Scar’s villager trading hall. He passed over the trees and made his way to Scar’s snail house--Barry? Larry? Jerry? He couldn’t remember. He landed on the small porch and stopped. There was no door.

For a moment, this puzzled him, then he laughed. It seemed Grian had been keeping up with his challenge to steal doors all season. Smiling, Mumbo walked inside the snail, still feeling a bit weird about commandeering someone else’s bed, but he was tired and it looked comfortable enough, so… 

Discarding his suit jacket and tie over the back of a chair, Mumbo glanced at the doorway. Should he put a door on? He’d hate to be woken up in the middle of the night by a zombie or a skeleton or something. Seemed like a good idea, even if Grian was probably just going to steal it sometime soon.

He crafted a new door using a nearby crafting table and some wood, then lugged it over to the doorway and hefted it into place. “There.” Mumbo turned back to the bed, which he still had inhibitions about, and hesitated.

Mumbo made his decision. He marched over to the bed, took up an armful of blankets and pillows, and tossed them into an empty spot on the floor. Even if his back would hate him in the morning, he was more comfortable making arrangements on the floor than sleeping in Scar’s bed.

Not wanting to debate with himself any longer, Mumbo cocooned himself into the pile of blankets and fell asleep.

* * *

Some ways away, in another jungle, the server’s admin was one of the last awake. Xisuma had heard about all the excitement earlier in the day from Keralis, who had stopped by to catch him up on the HCBBS before he left for Cleo’s base. It was going to be strange, having a new neighbour so late in the season. Though he hoped the swap would have a good impact on both Keralis and Cleo--and all the Hermits that had swapped, for that matter.

Xisuma fluttered around the outside of one of his towers with his elytra, grateful that he hadn’t put his name into the strange contraption. He didn’t think he’d be able to stand letting another Hermit have free reign over his base--he trusted them all, of course, but there was still something so deeply personal about something he’d built from the ground up. A connection that he had with it. But most of the other Hermits seemed to be having fun with the swap, from what Xisuma had heard.

He lifted his left arm, where a communicator was built into the forearm of his suit. It activated with the push of a button, projecting a holographic display of the chat. Xisuma clicked the button again, switching it to a list he’d made earlier of all the Hermits who had switched and who they had switched with. Mumbo and Scar, False and Tango, Cub and Doc, Joe and xB, Iskall and Beef, Cleo and Keralis, Zedaph and Grian, and Impulse and Stress. They all seemed very… deliberate. Precise matches to place those with opposite skill sets in the other’s base. On the surface, it seemed just like a fun event organized by an undisclosed server member who decided not to tell the admin. But Xisuma wasn’t so sure.

_I’ll keep an eye on them,_ Xisuma decided, scanning the list again. It was quite a lot of people, but Xisuma managed most things on the server single-handedly. He could do this. _I hope I’m wrong. I hope this_ is _just a surprise event._ He wasn’t even sure what he was worried about, it just… something felt off about the whole thing, and it had felt that way since he had first laid eyes on the countdown in the shopping district.

Xisuma watched the twinkling lights of Keralis’ (now Cleo’s) base in the distance as he sat atop the tower. Keep an eye on the Hermits, make sure that they were all safe. That was his job, after all. And if somebody got hurt, well… Xisuma would never forgive himself.

A few messages pinged his communicator, the same sort of happy, excited messages he’d been seeing all day, and his anxiety pulled back a bit, letting him smile.

**< cubfan135> love the open concept you’ve got going over here, Doc**

**< docm77> ha ha.**

**< docm77> Have you found the tunnel bore yet?**

**< cubfan135> I’ll look at it in the morning, I’m exhausted.**

**< Renthedog> still sad that I didn’t get to switch with anyone… :(  
**

He switched his communicator off there. It was nice to see the messages, but he had things to get done before turning in for the night. Xisuma stood up and spread his elytra wings, stretching his arms above his head to work out some stiffness in his shoulders before jumping off the edge. Hopefully, a little work would help him stop worrying about the base swap so much. It was good to be a little concerned, but he didn’t want to be overreacting.

The sun set on Hermitcraft, and things began to shift.


	2. Mismatched

_ Pain. Searing, blinding pain. He stumbled, trying to steady himself, as the pain drove deeper and deeper into his skull. He tried to reach out for the wall, but his arm was all wrong--cold, mechanical, and unfeeling. His face was the same. Flashes of memories sparked through his mind; an accident, an experiment, a desperate attempt to keep an infection at bay. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t  _ see. _ He was all alone, a monster of his own creation, his blood ice-cold and his body feeling more machine than human… _

Cub woke from the dream panting and sweating, feeling dazed and disoriented. He instantly reached for his right arm, relieved to find it still there. He blinked a few times, making sure both of his eyes were still working. And then Cub relaxed against the pillow, reassured that it had been a nightmare and nothing more. But he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He was used to nightmares. He had them all the time. Most of them were memories, warped by sleep, of ConCorp and the vexes, where he was forced, over and over again, to do things against his will. Sometimes they were things he’d actually done, other times things that scared him. He could tell which were which--the memories had a certain feel to them that he couldn’t describe, but he knew for sure that it was accurate. This… this felt like a memory, but Cub knew it couldn’t be. He still had his arm and face, after all.  _ So why did I remember losing them? _

Cub decided that he had to get up and go on with his day--he couldn’t stay in Doc’s bed pondering his nightmare forever, after all.  _ Doc’s bed. Doc’s missing his arm and half of his face…  _

No. It was a silly thought, and Cub pushed it away. Though considering all the strange things that happened on the server, Cub wouldn’t put it past Doc’s bed to be somehow cursed or haunted. Either way, he didn’t have any more time to waste thinking about it. It was just a dream, nothing more. He didn’t need to worry about it.

The sun slanted through the open side of the half-mansion as Cub pulled on his coat and made his way down the stairs. Doc’s base was a little odd, but Cub liked it, and definitely wasn’t going to be jumping at the opportunity to switch back any time soon. His mind was already buzzing with a few ideas to improve the cyborg’s living situation, plus what he could do to improve his own situation on the server while he was occupying Doc’s base. Doc  _ had _ mentioned some kind of tunnel borer the previous night, and Cub was excited to take advantage of it.  _ If I can find it, that is, _ he thought wryly. Doc wasn’t the best at making his things easy to find, as he’d discovered on the way to his new base for the first time.

Enough about Doc. Cub had things to do. First, finding the tunnel borer and collecting up as many diamonds as he could. Second, buying resources with said diamonds. Then third, starting on one of his project ideas. He hoisted his pickaxe over his shoulder and set off around the bay, commencing the first task on his list. The tunnel borer had to be underground, so he assumed he was looking for a hole, and it was probably nearby, so he swept the nearby area as diligently as he could, but turned up empty… at least until his foot caught on a stone by the edge of a small cliff and he ended up falling, very unceremoniously, into a stone staircase that led underground.

_ Well, that was embarrassing. _ Cub was glad nobody had been around to see it--though it was really Doc’s fault for making his mine entrance a narrow shaft hidden by the edge of a cliff. He scrambled back to his feet and brushed some dust from his coat before straightening it, then narrowed his eyes down the hole. It looked exactly like what he had been looking for, but he couldn’t be sure until he went down. Picking up his pickaxe from where it had fallen, Cub started to descend.

It wasn’t anything particularly fancy, just a roughly-hewn stone staircase going down as far as Cub could see into the darkness. There were torches placed along the wall to light his way with a flickering orange glow, and soon they were the only source of light, as the sun was swallowed by solid layers of stone and earth in all directions.

Cub soon stepped off the last stair and down into a small corridor with a few chests, a crafting table, and some furnaces scattered about. He passed through quickly into an even smaller corridor, which then opened up into a cavern so massive that Cub had to stop and stare at it for a few moments. “Woah,” he breathed, taking in the endless swaths of darkness and grand expanse of water that spread out before him, and the line of torches marking out an ice path to his left. He had no idea how far out Doc had taken this tunnel borer of his, but from the looks of the cave, it wasn’t going to be a short trip there. Though, Cub thought as he hauled a boat onto the ice path and climbed into it, if his knowledge of Doc’s machines was anything to go off of, the journey would be worth it.

An eternity of sliding along the ice path later, the monster of a tunnel borer finally came into view. It nearly took Cub’s breath away. Cub knew magic and redstone--and oh, how he knew magic. If a redstone machine could ever be called magical, then this one would be.

Cub knew he was being dramatic. It wasn’t  _ that _ impressive, compared to Decked Out or whatever the name of that mayoral robot Mumbo and Grian had built was or some of the other magnificent redstone builds on the server. But, Cub thought, leaving the boat and walking up to lay his hand on the tunnel borer, what made this one special was that it was  _ his. _ He didn’t even care if, technically, the tunnel borer wasn’t part of Doc’s base or if, technically, Doc had constructed it, or if, technically, Cub had no real claim to a single part of the machine. It was still his.

And judging from Doc’s messages about it the previous night, the  _ former _ owner of the device felt similarly.

He worked on instinct, using his redstone knowledge to figure out what needed to be done and how. Within moments he had it working, not questioning how he had managed it so fast, just thrilled as the first set of explosions went off. The cave wall in front of him was shattered with a loud  _ BOOM _ and Cub barely flinched, dark eyes lighting up at the sheer power he was commanding. He kept himself from getting  _ too _ excited--he didn’t want to accidentally blow himself up--but as he started to develop a rhythm and his collection of diamond ore grew steadily larger at an unimaginable pace, Cub couldn’t resist cracking a wide grin.

Thoughts of his nightmare faded to the back of Cub’s mind as the mining continued, along with most thoughts of anything unrelated to his current quest for diamonds. Fire, check for ores, fire, check for ores, fire, check for ores… Cub fell into the routine as if he’d done it a million times before. And he’d do it a million times more; it was fun and got him more diamonds than he ever could have hoped for, and he had to practically tear himself away from the tunnel borer when he checked the communicator strapped to his left arm and realized that it was approaching mid-afternoon.

The trek back was sweetened (and worsened, though Cub didn’t care) by the weight of a shulker box holding all his diamond ore in the back of his boat. He was almost disappointed by the thought that it would probably be enough diamonds to complete all the projects he had in mind, even the most zealous, and so there would be no need to use the tunnel borer again in the near future. That fact probably wasn’t going to stop him from coming back, though, as annoying as the trip down was.

Cub quickly made it back to the staircase and hefted the shulker box into his arms. Maybe he should add refining the mine entrance to his list of plans. His knees would thank him for knocking out the sharp incline and replacing it with a more gradual one, or perhaps a bubble elevator or something.

It took some time to extract all the diamonds from the ore, but soon he was able to fill a bag with his riches, tie it closed, and toss it into another, larger bag--this one enchanted to hold more than it should. Also enclosed were a couple of empty shulker boxes for the resources Cub intended to purchase. He made sure he had everything, then slung the bag over his shoulder.

Stepping around some stray chests that he really needed to clean up, Cub ignored the fact that he wasn’t sure which project he was starting first and made his way into the Nether portal. He closed his eyes, knowing that viewing the shift between dimensions made him nauseous, as the portal whooshed and a familiar chill rushed over his skin like water. Then heat blasted his face and Cub blinked his eyes open again, freezing for the second time that day as he looked around.

But this time, it wasn’t in awe. No--this time, it was the exact opposite. Cub had been too distracted on the way there the previous night to fully register Doc’s dull netherrack tunnel, but now he glared at it as if it had offended him. A netherrack tunnel. This far into the season and Doc was still using a  _ netherrack tunnel _ to get to and from the shopping district. Cub knew Doc wasn’t exactly a man of lavish style, but this was a  _ disgrace. _ Something had to be done, and he was going to be the one to do it. After all, this was Cub’s tunnel now, and Cub couldn’t bear the thought of leaving it the way it was.

Face steeled with determination, Cub set off a firework and shot down the tunnel as fast as he could. He was already having thoughts about how he could fancify the Nether portal--he envisioned a large room, with lava falls cascading down from the ceiling, and the portal set into the mouth of a giant goat skull… oh, it was going to be  _ amazing. _

* * *

Zedaph slammed his axe down, knocking off the final block of the ‘G’ that hung above the fireplace. “Last one,” he said to himself, before hopping down off of the scaffolding to the ground. Then he gathered up the wood under one arm and climbed back up, working quickly to rearrange the ‘G’ into a ‘Z’. “That’s more like it!” he declared, pulling down the scaffolding and stepping back to admire his handiwork. Well, most of it was Grian’s handiwork, but the ‘Z’ fit in very nicely atop the fireplace, if he did say so himself.

Wiping dust from his hands, Zedaph strapped the axe to his back with his pickaxe and made his way out of the top area of the mansion. As he deployed his elytra and coasted down to the ground floor, Zed started to ponder.  _ This place could really use a better way to get between the floors, _ he thought. And he knew just the thing.

A short while of poking through Grian’s chests for the right materials later, Zedaph looked up at where he was going to install the elevator shafts. It was going to be a tight squeeze, but it was better than nothing. Zed started forward to commence his project, but as he went, his foot caught on a stray cable and he tumbled to the ground… directly into the rest of the pile. Where he promptly got stuck.  _ Great. _

Untangling himself from the cables was not an easy feat, especially with his elytra equipped. It felt like every single time he got one arm or leg free, another got caught again. But then, finally, with a great clatter, Zedaph came free of the cables, panting. He glared at the pile of cables crossly for a few moments, then scrambled to his feet. “This elevator will be built whether you like it or not,” he told it, a touch of annoyance slipping into his voice.

Zedaph set about getting the elevators rigged up, and soon his hands were thoroughly coated in a layer of redstone dust. He clicked the last component into place, gave the suspension ropes a final tug to make sure they were secured, and moved to the centre of the room to look up at his new contraption.

Satisfied, Zed flipped his communicator on to check the time. Then he paused and blinked.  _ I really spent four hours on this? _ He glanced between the display and the elevator.  _ It shouldn’t have taken that long. _ He stretched his arms above his head and yawned. He must’ve just been a bit sluggish because of the swap. Come to think of it, had he even slept since leaving his old base? It was morning, and he’d started working the previous night. With a jolt, he realized that no, he hadn’t slept.

He yawned again. Well… he wasn’t  _ too _ tired, surely he could still put a  _ little _ more work in before he went to sleep--the elevators were functional, but he wanted to make sure they fit in with the rest of the mansion. And with that thought, Zed went poking around the chests again, picking out some blocks he thought fit the bill.

Another hour or so later, Zedaph basically collapsed onto the floor in front of the fireplace, studying the finished product. It looked… nice. Nicer than he had expected. The elevators blended in well, and he’d even added a little ding to indicate when one had reached their destination. Zed grinned, then stifled another yawn.

_ Okay,  _ now _ I should sleep, _ Zedaph thought, laying back on the wood floor. Not there, of course, but he just wanted to take a few moments to… rest… before actually going to bed. The diamond chandelier above him  _ was _ quite beautiful. And come to think of it, all those diamonds were his, now, weren’t they?

This whole base swap thing was a little weird, especially with nobody being quite sure who organized it, but Zedaph was having fun. Filling his mansion-- _ Grian’s _ mansion--with contraptions while Grian beautified the rough cave he’d been living in for the season was proving to be more enjoyable than he’d expected. Even if he was still tentative to sleep in his new base.

Zed got to his feet, blinking in the face of the sunlight that felt as if it were burning spots into his eyes. Then he set off a rocket and attempted to shoot into the sky, but regardless of whether it was from the sun or exhaustion, he misjudged the takeoff and ran his head directly into the doorframe.

He plummeted out of the sky and landed on his back at the ground entrance to the mansion, winded. Zedaph struggled to take a full breath as he lay there for a few long moments, too fatigued to push himself to get up. His head throbbed and it sounded like something was making a racket inside his skull, but he wasn’t sure if it was real or a side effect of ramming his head into a wall.

Fighting off dizziness, Zedaph sat up and cradled his forehead with one hand. Luckily, he healed from injuries pretty quickly, so he could already feel his headache starting to subside, but the noises hadn’t gone away. It sounded almost like… a parrot?

“Are you  _ laughing _ at me?” Zed demanded, snapping his head to the side to glare at a bright red bird perched on a chest a metre or so away. “It’s really not funny, I’m doing my best here-”

The offending parrot was quiet for a moment, then resumed its cawing--no,  _ cackling. _ It was  _ definitely _ making fun of him.

“Shut up!” Zedaph shouted, scrambling to his feet and lunging towards the parrot with his arm outstretched, attempting to shoo it away. The bird’s squawks turned panicked and it bolted, fleeing back into the jungle in a flash of scarlet. Once it had gone, Zed huffed and stabilized himself against the exterior wall of the mansion.

He snorted and stumbled inside, intending to find a bed and sleep the rest of the morning and probably part of the afternoon away. As he went, he scoffed silently and thought,  _ pesky bird. _

* * *

Bdubs swooped through Aque Town, tucking in his elytra to land neatly on the rough basalt street. The silent auctions had just wrapped up, which meant that soon he’d be rolling in diamonds.  _ Ha! Take that, Scar! _ He only had a few more to put signs up on--he’d nearly finished earlier, but, embarrassingly, he’d fallen asleep in his real estate office before he could manage it. To be fair, it had been getting late, and Bdubs had a reputation to uphold… even if that meant snoozing underneath his desk, cushioned only by a couple of blankets he’d had the foresight to leave there a few days earlier.

He plucked a book out of a nearby barrel and took note of the last entry--Etho had won, it seemed--before pocketing it. Then he set down a sign on the barrel listing Etho as the new proprietor and moved to the next one. It went to Impulse, so Bdubs repeated the process with Impulse’s name on the sign instead. And then to the final building, which was won by Scar.

Bdubs finished up with the signs and went to go back to his realty office, but something was bothering him. He… he hadn’t exactly  _ seen _ Scar recently, not since he’d moved into Mumbo’s base. Maybe Bdubs just hadn’t crossed paths with the mayor, but between Aque Town and the sewers beneath Keralis’ city, Bdubs usually encountered Scar regularly. And yet Bdubs hadn’t seen him at all in the last couple of days. Maybe it was just paranoia, but… 

_ I can go check up on him, he won’t mind. Just a friendly visit.  _ Besides, he’d been curious about what Scar might be doing with Mumbo’s ancient temple home. And if Bdubs took that opportunity to gloat about all his auction winnings that he was going to be collecting, so what? And if Bdubs was worried, just a little bit, about Scar overworking himself,  _ so what? _

A trail of smoke followed Bdubs as he shot into the sky, coasting over the two realty offices before tipping his elytra up and setting off another firework to lift him higher. He wasn’t entirely familiar with where Mumbo’s portal was, but he was sure he’d be able to find it through the Nether hub area. It couldn’t be that far from Scar’s, considering their (old) bases were side-by-side.

Sure enough, soon Bdubs came soaring out of a tall Nether portal, flying straight through the base to the exterior. The base was pretty open, so Bdubs assumed that if Scar was there, he’d be easy to find by flying around the outside. And fairly quickly, Bdubs caught sight of a familiar figure linking together what appeared to be massive chains connecting the middle portion of the base to the surrounding…  _ are those wrenches? They look like wrenches. _

“Scar!” Bdubs called as he attempted to land on the chain and failed. He heard Scar laugh as he came around for another pass, before sticking the landing that time and puffing out his chest as if he had completely intended to do that.

“Bdubs!” Scar replied with equal enthusiasm, leaving his work and standing up to greet the other man. “What do you think of my new base?” He lifted his arms, gesturing around at the temple.

“Seems like you’re making yourself at home,” Bdubs said with a half-laugh, nudging the chain with his foot. “It’s great, Scar. The chains are a wonderful idea.” He smiled widely. “Is this what you’ve been doing for the last few days?”

Scar scratched the back of his head. “I mean… yeah, I guess it has been,” he answered, sounding a little sheepish. “Just… been so excited to work on something completely new, y’know?” He adjusted his hat and cracked a small grin. “I’m inspired!”

“Good! That’s good.” Bdubs’ expression turned tight. “I was just wondering ‘cause I haven’t really seen you around Aque Town or the sewer recently-”

Scar reached out to pat Bdubs on the shoulder. “Oh, Bdubs, I’m not ignoring you,” Scar reassured him, and Bdubs appreciated it, though he was a little bothered by how Scar had managed to pinpoint his feelings so accurately. “There’s just so much to do here… I’ve been meaning to get out, but I guess I just… forgot.” Scar shrugged, seeming nonchalant.

“That certainly sounds like you,” Bdubs joked, but it was a little forced as he tried to keep the tone light. Because it wasn’t like Scar, not really. Scar misplaced things, yes, but he was usually good at keeping his projects in order. “So you’ve just been focused?”

“Yep.” Scar glanced past Bdubs as if looking for something behind him, but Bdubs didn’t know what it could be. “Had to gather a lot of resources.” He paused. “By the way, have you seen the storage room in this thing? It’s amazin’!” He drew out the middle of ‘amazing’ in that typical way of his, signalling his cheerful enthusiasm. “Come on, I’ll show you.” And without even waiting for Bdubs to respond, Scar spread his elytra and dove towards the ground.

“Hey! Sca-ar!” Bdubs shouted after him, fumbling to follow. He jumped off the chain and lit a firework, sending him careening through the sky towards the ground. Bdubs pulled up at just the right moment, avoiding a crash-landing with the cliffside, and followed Scar down into the heart of the base.

When they had both landed, Scar grabbed Bdubs by the arm and pulled him over to one of the walls of chests. “It’s a fully automatic sorting system!” Scar exclaimed. “Kind of like the one Mumbo’s putting in his base.”

“Your base,” Bdubs corrected without thinking.

Scar coughed deliberately and repeated,  _ “His _ base.”

“Right.” Bdubs shifted awkwardly. “His base.”

They were both quiet for a few moments.

“How are things in Aqua Town?” Scar asked nonchalantly, breaking the silence as he turned back towards Bdubs.

Bdubs straightened up and tried to act natural. “Good- good, good, things are fine,” he said. “The auctions just wrapped up.” He pursed his lips, trying not to gloat. It didn’t feel like the right time. “Xisuma’s looking for more land. I’m going to sell it to him.”

He expected Scar to protest or complain about Bdubs stealing his customer, but Scar barely reacted to the statement. “Sounds nice,” the mayor replied. “Glad you’re having a good time.”

Bdubs’ brow furrowed. “Scar- are you feeling okay?” he questioned, taking a step forward. “Like… you’re not overworking yourself or anything?”

“I feel fine and I only pulled one all-nighter, I swear,” Scar insisted, matching Bdubs’ approach with a step back towards the wall. “I’ll come back to Aqua Town soon, there’s just so much to do here, Bdubs, I guess I just-”

“-forgot, yeah, you said that already,” Bdubs finished. He looked around for a moment before his gaze landed back on the mayor. “Since you’ve got so much work to do,” he fought to keep his tone plain, “I’ll just leave you to it, eh?” He then pretended not to see Scar’s tiny sigh of relief and masked the little jab of pain stabbing his heart.

“Yeah. See you later, Bdubs.” Scar instantly turned his back to his friend and Bdubs bit his lip, before taking a step back and lighting a rocket to shoot him into one of the Nether portals.

As the world shifted around him, Bdubs folded his arms over his chest and deflated a bit. This didn’t seem like Scar, but what if-  _ no. _ Bdubs didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t even want to  _ consider _ that Scar might’ve been faking his side of their friendship.  _ And I was just too naive to see it. _

_ No! _ Bdubs fired off another rocket and shot through the sweltering heat of the Nether back towards his base.  _ Scar _ is _ my friend. _ He was probably just taking advantage of the base swap and having a little vacation. Bdubs knew how overwhelming big projects could be, and especially with the responsibilities Scar had as the mayor and the competitiveness of Aqua Town recently… honestly, Scar needed a break more than anyone.

But that still didn’t stop Bdubs from being more than a little bit worried.

* * *

Watching creeper after creeper hurtle by on the minecart track with their heads on fire made Tango giggle out loud, immensely pleased with the success of his first project in his new base. He’d had a few hitches along the way, but now he had a fully-functioning and incredibly entertaining creeper farm cranking out gunpowder like it was nobody’s business. Tango kicked his legs over the edge of the building he was sitting on and dug a sandwich wrapped in paper out of his redstone bag. Working all morning had left him tired and hungry, but it had been one hundred percent worth it for the flaming creeper highway.

The sandwich quickly disappeared and Tango stretched his arms above his head, working out a knot between his shoulders before laying back against the sun-warmed concrete with a sigh. The day was only half-done; he still had a lot more to do… but he was allowed to rest for a few minutes. Nobody would be happy if he pushed himself too hard. Most of the time he was fairly good at remembering to eat and take breaks, but there had been a few times-

_ Nevermind that. _ Tango sat up and slicked his blond hair back with one hand. He had a game to work on, and then he and Impulse were meeting up in the evening. If he budgeted his time right, he could add a few tasks to Among Us with a spare hour or so for dinner.  _ See, I can be responsible, _ he snorted silently, though who it was directed at, he wasn’t sure.

Tango jumped to his feet and gazed out at the minecart track again, a smile ghosting his lips. He could hear the creepers hissing from all the way up on the top of the building. “Oh, I’ll be back to watch you guys again soon,” he promised, his smile growing into a grin. It was probably one of the most ridiculous things he’d ever built and he  _ loved _ it.

He rolled his shoulders back, flicking out the mechanical elytra strapped to his back, and tore himself away from the contraption. Tango picked up his redstone bag and slung it over his shoulder, making sure the clasp was safely secured, then plucked a firework out of his vest pocket and lit it, jumping off the building at nearly the exact same time.

Soon, Tango arrived at the gaming district and made his way to where he had been working. He landed neatly in the centre of the cavern, amid his tangled nest of redstone wiring, and placed his hands on his hips as he surveyed the darkened underground area. What had he been doing, again? He hadn’t been to Among Us in a few days because of the base swap, so his memory was a little fuzzy.

He pondered for a moment, then…  _ tasks! _ That was it. He’d been adding the tasks. Right. And he still had many more to do. Tango swooped down from above into the library, where a task station had been marked out earlier. With a sigh, Tango rolled up his sleeves, flipped open the flap of his bag, and got started.

A few hours later, Tango wanted to slam his head into a wall. Nothing was working. Not a single thing.  _ Okay, no, that’s a lie, I just keep getting stuck. _ Things were working, it was just taking so  _ long _ and Tango swore he was driving himself crazy. He kept making stupid mistakes, such as using a repeater instead of a comparator or a hopper instead of a dropper, and it was  _ infuriating. _

“Stupid, stupid-” Tango’s speech quickly deteriorated into a wordless yell of frustration as he ripped a redstone wire out of where it was plugged into a nearby dispenser and chucked it into a puddle. “You blasted thing,  _ work!” _ He then kicked the dispenser and immediately regretted his decision as pain blossomed in his foot. “Ah,  _ blazes,” _ Tango cursed. He grimaced and stumbled to a nearby chest, where he sat down on the lid.  _ Guess I’m just being an idiot today. _ And he’d done so well with the creeper farm, too…

Grinding his teeth together, Tango activated the communicator on his arm and instigated a direct message with Impulse. He typed quickly, trying to stretch out his foot and force the pain to subside faster as he did so.

**_You whisper to impulseSV: Can we bump up our meeting by a bit?_ **

Just after he hit send, another bolt of pain shot through his foot and he winced, but then it seemed to fade.  _ Note to self: don’t kick dispensers. Or any redstone components, for that matter. _ He wasn’t eager to find out what breaking his foot felt like.

Impulse replied faster than Tango had expected, and the ding of two incoming messages had Tango fumble to shoot a response back.

**_impulseSV whispers to you: sure_ **

**_impulseSV whispers to you: to when?_ **

**_You whisper to impulseSV: you free for dinner?_ **

**_impulseSV whispers to you: yep. Where?_ **

Tango had to consider for a moment and bit his lip, trying to remember what restaurants there were around the shopping district. Hadn’t Scar just opened a new one? Tango had heard it had excellent burgers and after a long day of redstone, he could really use a greasy diner meal.

**_You whisper to impulseSV: there’s that diner in aque town?_ **

**_impulseSV whispers to you: oh yeah, aqueue town_ **

**_impulseSV whispers to you: the moopop cafe?_ **

**_You whisper to impulseSV: that one._ **

**_impulseSV whispers to you: sounds good_ **

**_You whisper to impulseSV: I’ll meet you there in half an hour_ **

**_impulseSV whispers to you: forty?_ **

**_You whisper to impulseSV: that works!_ **

Tango whistled to himself and clicked off his communicator. He then looked around at the mess of redstone dust and components he’d created and immediately deflated.  _ I should probably clean this up before I leave, _ he thought. Then he paused.  _ Or… I could leave this for Future Tango to deal with. _ Nah. He cared too much about Future Tango’s sanity. Plus, Future Tango would probably be having better luck with redstone, and Tango didn’t want to detract from Future Tango’s work by forcing him to deal with yet another mess.  _ Thank me later, Future Me. _

And with that, he started packing his things back into his bag and getting ready to go.

Half an hour later, Tango was flying over the shopping district towards Aque Town, or whatever it was supposed to be called. It seemed sometimes as if every Hermit had a different name for the uniquely-themed area of the island. He was a little early, but since he was the one who had invited Impulse, he wanted to get there first.

He folded in his elytra and dove towards the uniquely-styled building, the sound of him touching down on the pavement out front muffled near-completely by his boots. Tango reached forward and pulled open the glass door, entering the brightly-lit restaurant and casting his red gaze around the interior.

‘Restaurant’ was a loose term on Hermitcraft. It was more like ‘place where you can buy food from a chest and then sit down to eat in’, which was a subtle but distinct difference. Nobody actively worked in any of the shops, because they all trusted each other not to steal, and so every ‘restaurant’ functioned more like a do-it-yourself buffet. But Tango wasn’t complaining.

He picked one of the booths at random and sat down, before kicking his feet out underneath the table and folding his arms behind his head to wait for Impulse. A quick check of a clock on the wall told him that it was nearly their agreed-upon time. And sure enough, soon a familiar face burst through the diner’s front door.

“Tango!”

“Impulse!” Tango straightened up, fixed his vest, and gestured to the seat across from him. “Come on in, sit down, we’ve got the whole place to ourselves,” he said loudly, grinning. “Great to see you, man.”

“You too, you too,” Impulse replied, sinking into the offered seat. “How are things in your new base?” He lifted an eyebrow curiously.

Tango snorted. “C’mon, dude--food first, then talking. I’m  _ starving.” _ He’d been snacking on golden carrots all afternoon, but anybody who knew him knew that his stomach was a bottomless pit. One of the perks of being a whatever-Tango-was, apparently, though Tango was not a fan.

“Right, right, okay.” Impulse started to get up just as Tango did, then laughed nervously when they both stopped at the exact same moment--half-sitting, half-standing. “Are you or am I…?”

“My treat,” Tango insisted, and Impulse sat back down as he walked away from the table. “Burger and fries?”

“You know it,” Impulse answered instantly. “Thanks, Tango.” His friend shot him a smile, which Tango returned.

Soon, Tango was back sitting in the booth and they were both chowing down on their food. Tango inhaled his fries at a record pace, and it was when he was moving onto his burger that Impulse cleared his throat to get the other redstoner’s attention.

“So… your new base?” Impulse asked, cocking his eyebrow again. “You got False’s, right? The sort of futuristic… city… thing… y’know-” He waved a hand abstractly, trying to indicate something that Tango couldn’t put into words either, but understood nonetheless.

“Yeah, that one.” Tango nodded. “I’ve already installed a rocket factory. Want to guess what I did for the gunpowder farm?” He leaned across the table, smirking.

Impulse looked only mildly concerned. “I know whatever I guess, it’ll be wrong.” He dipped another fry in ketchup and stuck it in his mouth. “Tell me.”

“Flaming creeper highway.”

Impulse choked, but quickly recovered. “I mean, of course.”

“Creepers hurtling through the base with their heads on fire. It’s perfect!” Tango exclaimed, clapping his greasy hands together in glee. “It’s so entertaining to watch the blasted things fly by, burning and hissing before they finally hit the cactus and die…” He trailed off with a wistful sigh.

Impulse laughed. “Dude, you’re nuts,” he said, “and it’s awesome.” He shook his head and continued to snicker under his breath.

“What about your base?” Tango questioned, pointing at Impulse with a long fry he’d stolen from his friend’s plate. Then he bit the fry in half and continued talking as he chewed. “You swapped with Stress.”

“I did,” Impulse confirmed. “I haven’t really done much with the base yet--still trying to get my head around things. I flew past our old bases on the way here, though, and it looks like False and Stress have been busy.” He paused and pursed his lips. “My pyramid’s  _ pink.” _

Tango snorted. “Sounds about right.”

The conversation petered off there and they went back to eating in near-silence. Tango quickly finished his burger and continued stealing fries from Impulse’s plate, though Impulse soon caught on and started smacking his hand away whenever he tried.

“Go buy more if you want more!” Impulse finally snapped, though his tone was still light and he punctuated the sentence with a breathy chuckle at the end. “Or get dessert or something. These are  _ mine.” _

“I bought ‘em,” Tango pointed out, snatching another one before Impulse could stop him, a sickly sweet smile on his face.

Impulse sighed and flicked a fry in Tango’s direction, hitting the other man directly in the face. “You are the worst.”

Tango ended up getting them a cake to share, and after they were done, they left the diner together and stood, semi-awkwardly, in the middle of the street.

“What now?” Impulse asked, scratching his head.

Tango hesitated, then suggested, “You could come see my new rocket factory.”

Impulse considered for a moment before nodding. “Lead the way.”

Tango shot into the sky and flared out his elytra to catch the wind, quickly leaving behind the twinkling lights of the shopping district. His base wasn’t far--he still didn’t need a Nether portal to get to the island, which was nice. Tango cast a glance over his shoulder and saw that Impulse was close behind, so he set off another firework and blasted ahead faster.

He swooped around the base and led Impulse to where he’d constructed the creeper highway. A laugh carried through the air from behind him and Tango grinned, tucking in his elytra to land on top of a nearby building overlooking the farm. Impulse joined him, and they stood quietly for a few moments, the silence only broken by the sound of creepers hissing.

“Isn’t it great?” Tango prompted enthusiastically.

Impulse burst out laughing. “Tango, it’s  _ fantastic.” _

“The only thing is that I’ve been having a little bit of a-” the clanking of bones interrupted him mid-sentence and Tango half-sighed, “-skeleton problem.”

“That’s weird,” Impulse commented. “Have you tried-” An arrow zipped past Impulse’s ear, cutting his question short.

Tango reached for the netherite sword sheathed on his belt. “I’ll take care of this,” he said, and surprise flashed through Impulse’s gaze, but his friend didn’t protest.

The next arrow was swiftly sliced out of the air as Tango turned, dodging projectiles and sprinting over the concrete until he was close enough to strike. The first skeleton lost its head in a dark flash, and the second was easily sliced in half with a follow-through. Another arrow whistled and Tango ducked, using his lower angle to sweep the legs out from underneath the offending monster and send it crashing to the ground. Tango then leapt up, planting his sword directly in the chest of another skeleton, and yanked it out with a grunt, before turning and throwing the blade directly into the skull of the last mob.

Now surrounded by bones and the dusty remains of the skeletons, Tango retrieved his sword and turned back to Impulse, who was staring at him. “What?” he prompted, wiping mob dust from his vest. While he waited for a reply, he sheathed his sword and started to approach Impulse, but paused when his friend stepped away from him.

“That was… Tango, you don’t fight like that,” Impulse murmured. “You- you don’t fight, period.” His tone was unsure, and Tango bit his lip.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tango replied with a huff. He  _ fought. _ Maybe he wasn’t always great at it, but he wasn’t  _ bad! _ “Okay, so I did really well against those skeletons. And?”

_ “And _ it’s really weird.” Impulse sighed. “Look, I don’t know, maybe it’s nothing, I just…” his expression suddenly shifted, “...yeah, it’s nothing. Sorry, man.” And before Tango could respond, Impulse went on, saying, “It’s late, I should probably be heading back.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, thanks for dropping by,” Tango said, waving a hand dismissively. “I’ll, uh, see you again soon?”

“Sure thing.” Impulse flicked out his elytra and pulled a rocket out of his bag. “Good luck with your skeleton problem.” And then he was gone, shooting away into the late evening sky.

Tango turned on his heel and looked at the pile of bones again. Was it really that strange, killing those mobs so easily? Or was he just having a weird day?

Unsure of the answer, Tango decided to sleep on it. He stepped back over the edge of the building and dropped into a free-fall, before firing a rocket and speeding through his new base with troubled, yet enthusiastic vigour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am too lazy to do more editing on this chapter so please just take it as it is-  
> Thank you for reading :D comments and kudos always appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, I can't even explain how excited I am to keep working on this!! I have been buzzing about this concept ever since I first heard about it... and oh boy is this going to be a wild, fun ride. Thanks for reading <3 if you enjoyed, consider leave a kudos and/or a comment telling me what you think, it really means a lot!


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